Dinah, Dear
by IreneSubtractler
Summary: A possible back story for Haymitch, about some of the tributes he mentored before Katniss and Peeta. (I own nothing)
1. It all begins

Chapter One

I've just been selected to be District Twelve's female tribute. It's hardly surprising considering how many times my name has gone in in exchange for tesserae, but I didn't think it would actually be me. No one ever really does. There's the fear that it _could_ be you, but never the belief it _will_ be.

I stand on the stage by Effie Trinket. She's oddly dressed, this is her first year and obviously she's very excited about her new job. She has blonde hair tangled up in a nest of curls with a tiny patterned hat balanced precariously on top. Her suit, a dull yellow colour, is made entirely of the same fabric as her hat. She's naturally pretty. Or rather, if she looked like at all natural she would be. She eagerly pulls out the name of the unlucky boy.

"Elix Doffit!" Effie seems to be waiting for applause. Instead Elix, wide eyed and pale, shuffles through the crowd, no applause just silence interrupted only by the odd murmur of consolation. I know him from school, vaguely. He's a thin, gawky lad, my age, seventeen, but taller. I catch his eye as he walks up the steps of the stage, there's something in his eyes, not sadness, panic or fear, but anger. Effie encourages us to shake hands and then we are escorted off stage.

Once we are inside the Justice Building we wait in our separate rooms for our final visitors. I have one. Alanie, she's only thirteen, she's one of the girls I shared a room with at our community home, but she's always looked up to me. It shows how bad our community home must be for her to pick me as a role model. She still has the blue ribbons that I tied into her hair this morning in. At first she smiles at me, but it takes only a moment for it to dissolve away into tears. I open my arms and she clings to me.

"It's ok." I whisper, even though I know it isn't.

I hold her shoulder and crouch down so we're level, "Who brought you here, Alanie? Was it one of the older girls?" She doesn't respond, but looks at the floor, "You came here alone?" I unwittingly allow a tone of amusement to enter my voice. Through her red eyes and sniffling comes a small grin. I hug her again. She came here on her own, that means without permission. A painful thought dawns on me: she must really care about me. In the drive over from the square I managed to shut out Effie's incessant wittering for a minute and I tried to find the positive in this: _I'm not leaving anyone behind._

Now I am.

Within an hour we are on the train. Effie tries to make conversation with us, at first I join in; telling her about what life was like in a community home in Twelve. Swiftly she changes the subject asking questions to Elix. He is uncooperative, answering only yes or no until he stands and move to a different seat in the cart. Before Effie can verbalise her outrage there is a loud crash from another cart and the door opens.

"Tributes!"

A tall man, who looks to be in his late twenties, explodes into the room wielding a dark red bottle. He lifts the bottle to his lips and glugs. I immediately notice his features: his eyes, his jawline, his unkempt dark blonde hair, how they all fit together to make quite an attractive product. Then I instantly scold myself, my priorities definitely need reassessing. Effie runs to his side,

"Just the man we need. I don't think you have been formally introduced to our tributes. This-"

"Ah, quiet woman." He now has even Elix's attention, "This woman," he points a swaying finger at Effie, "Bane of my life. Ain't that right?" He swivels unsteadily and lands on the chair beside me.

"Well don't you look pretty? All done up for the Reaping? What's with the…" He gently twists a clump of my hair, "The boy hair?" I just smile at him. I'm used to drunks. Mr Salker, who ran our community home, was quite the alcoholic.

"Are you finished now?" I begin patiently, "Because today hasn't been too great for me so far." I barely get my words out before tears fill my eyes, I look away. I don't want to cry in front of a stranger. He keeps looking at me though. When I manage to compose myself I look up at him. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't try to comfort me. He just holds my gaze a second longer and hands me the bottle. Then he slopes off.

Effie explains how that drunkard is actually Haymitch Abernathy the only victor to come out of District Twelve. She hastily adds a "So far!" and eagerly looks between us. She continues to witter for over an hour before finally leaving us alone. I try to strike up a conversation will Elix, but fail. A few hours later Effie returns and hurries us through to a different cart. By this time I've drank the contents of the red bottle and find moving around a little bit difficult and everything a little bit funny.

We have to go through three carts, each more elaborate than the previous one.

"And here we have the dining cart."

But it isn't just the dining cart. It's extraordinary; unnecessarily extraordinary perhaps. It looks more like a fine restaurant, one that only the President would dine in. There's a row of chandeliers along the middle of the room and a long banquet table beneath them. The food is already piled up on it, more food than I've seen in my lifetime. I don't wait for Effie to finish speaking and Elix is close behind me. I try piling food up on my plate, but soon run out of space. I devour the food on my plate and refill it several times; I've lost any care for propriety. At some point during my feast Haymitch has entered, sat beside me and began eating with a true sense of decorum. I slow to halt when I notice how I have been gorging myself.

"You seem better." Haymitch doesn't look up from his food.

"I took your advice." I only now notice the slight slurring on my speech. He picks up another bottle and offers it to me. I take a moment to consider.

_I've seen the effects of alcohol, but that was caused by long term drinking and nothing bad has happened yet. _

_I don't really want to be intoxicated while surrounded by strangers, but I supposed I don't have long to live._

I pick up a glass, Haymitch pours it out for me and carefully places it back in my hands.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Abernathy?" I giggle profusely. He leans forward, "You already are Miss…?"

"Salker. Dinah Salker." I don't really have a last name. When I was a baby I was found by someone and handed in to the community home, but officially any child without a last name takes on that of the community home owner. However I figure that explaining this would be incredibly difficult at the moment and it would probably upset Effie.

"Well, hello there." He shakes my hand and then turns his attention to Elix. "You." Elix looks up for a moment then continues eating,

"What?"

"Name?"

"Elix."

"Come and find me if you ever decided to stop moping."

Haymitch doesn't get a response. I don't think he expects one. Haymitch stands, his plate is empty but I notice he hasn't eaten much, a few slices of meat at most.

"Well I'm going to bed." I look over to the window, see the darkness and realise it must be nearing midnight. "You two have a big day tomorrow."

He's right, so I stand and make my way to the wrong end of the cart as if to follow Haymitch. Effie hobbles after me, having been in high heels all day they're beginning to have an effect.

"No, no Dinah dear, that's the wrong way." I don't respond I just stop, a little bit out of touch with the world. Effie hooks her bony arm around my shoulders and guides me away, wittering the whole time.

"Oh now don't be embarrassed, dear. It's very easy to get turned around here. Here you go, now through the door. Oh dear, if you're going to be drinking you might as well drink better quality alcohol. Oh and dear, about that," We made it to my bunk, "I don't think it's wise for you to drink yourself into such a state. You are a tribute now, all eyes of the Capitol will be watching you and dear, your actions reflect against both District Twelve and all of its representatives, including myself. I can understand that you must be excited by the day's events, and of course how glamorous this train must seem, but really this isn't the way to celebrate. Do you understand me, dear?"

I pull myself up on the bed.

"No, frankly you don't seem to know what you're talking about, so how do you expect me to understand when you're talking absolute nonsense?" I know Effie means well and I mean no offense, but she really is clueless, "I mean, how would you feel if you'd been plucked from your home and now destined to have to kill children to survive?"

I don't think anyone has ever spoken of the Hunger Games in such a blunt way before, not to Effie at least. At first she looks stunned, but she shakes her head and she's smiling again.

"Sleep. That's what you need, well I'll let you rest. We reach the Capitol early tomorrow. Goodnight!" She closes the door and I'm alone.

I don't sleep, I lie in uncomfortable warmth, waiting for the sun to rise. Waiting for the Capitol to appear at my window.


	2. Arriving at the Capitol

Chapter Two

I must have drifted off in the night because Effie is standing at the door, in a new yet equally yellowy outfit. In a singsong voice she tries to rouse me from my bed. I hear she squeal and realise she's laughing and pointing. Elix comes running, obviously he thought she was in pain, but the concern on his face quickly melts into amusement.

"What?" My throat is dry and my voice is gruff and every sound Effie makes echoes in my skull and throbs in my ears.

"Oh Dinah, dear… I can't…" She splutters out words amidst screeching laughs. I look to Elix, who's sporting a rather friendly smile. I'm afraid this close to waking up I can't muster up a similar response.

"What? Elix?"

"It's nothing, it's just your… your hair is a bit…" I fall back on the bed and pull the pillow up over my face in an attempt to block out Effie. I discard it and stand up, about to push Effie and Elix out. I catch my reflection and sigh. My short, dishevelled hair stands up in spikes and clumps and curls, as it does each morning, although usually without such an enthralled audience.

"Ha, ha, hilarious, now get out, we don't want to be late, do we?" Elix smiles again before leaving, but I have to shoo Effie, who is doubled over with laughter.

"What's all the commotion… oh." Haymitch appears at the door, "Wow, what were you doing last night?"

"Of course," I run my hands through my hair, more in exasperation than an attempt at taming it, "Does anyone else want to come in and have a look at my fascinating hair?" Haymitch eventually guides Effie out and I finally am in sweet quiet again. My eyelid feel heavy, but I resist long enough to go into the bathroom attached to the room. I get into the shower cubicle of flawless porcelain and coloured glass, the cool water washes over me bringing me back into the world. I remain in the water for much longer than I need, my hands start to crinkle up and I hear Effie call from the hallway,

"We'll be arriving in an hour, so be ready!"

I wrap myself in a soft yellow towel. Not the yellow Effie sports, dull and aging, but yellow like sunflower petals. I open the closet doors and to my dismay see rows of dresses and dress suits in pastel colours. I try to pick one that looks most comfortable, but after trying on a pastel green knee length dress I realise Capitol female fashion requires a certain level of pain that I'm just not comfortable with. Back in my towel, and in the bedroom I poke my head through the door and thankfully see Elix walking towards me,

"Hi Elix, how're you feeling?"

"Good, I guess. How are you?"

"Fantastic, look I need a favour."

Effie is pacing back and forth in the last cart, the cart where we will step into the Capitol and wholly become tributes. Any trace of who Elix and I once were will be scrubbed away. Haymitch leans against the wall as the total opposite of Effie, the epitome of calm.

"Finally, Elix, here you are. Now, have you seen…" I step out from behind Elix and watch Effie melt, "What. Are. You. Wearing?" I stood before them dressed in the most comfortable clothes I could find, clothes that Elix had kindly let me take from his wardrobe. It's not like I'm not dressed smartly, a white pinstriped shirt and waistcoat along with tight grey trousers. I hoped to wear dress shoes but they were too big, so I'm in the only pair of non-heeled shoes from my wardrobe, red jewelled pumps.

"Well I think I look charming," Haymitch can barely contain his laughter. Effie is about to scold me when the train pulls shakily to a stop, "That didn't feel too safe."

"These models of trains are quite old," Effie adjusts her hair and padded shoulders, "In a few years it'll take less than a day to get to the Capitol from District Twelve. Now, are we all ready?" Elix and I nod silently even though neither of us are nor ever will be ready.

The doors slide open.

We are instantly surrounded by chattering reporters and cameras. The noise increases as each of them shout over the other. Haymitch guides us through the station, with Effie following, occasionally making comments at the reporters.

"Oh yes, they're thrilled to be here… Why, of course... Yes, we've got some fighters this year." He near enough shoves us into the car that's waiting for us. Effie slides in and readjusts her hair with a slightly pouting expression. Clearly she wanted us to make more of an impression.

"Listen up everyone, we're on the way now to meet you're stylists." Elix and I simultaneously groan. "This is an essential part, they will prepare you and dress you for the opening ceremonies. Now remember, I have already mentioned this to Dinah, your actions reflect upon your District. So, behave. And Dinah, dear, if they, for some reason, ask for your input, kindly remain silent." I feel that I should be offended by the dig at my outfit, but I know she's just trying to help me so I kindly remain silent. The car slows to a stop, Haymitch opens the door and walks out. This is the first time Elix or I have been in the Capitol and it takes a minute for the reality of it to sink in. There are apartment building and shops all different colours, some pastel, some bright. All I can see is the blend of colour and it hurts my eyes, until I turn to see the tall crystal building in front of us. It glimmers in the sunlight, like an ice sculpture decorated with mirrors. Haymitch walks straight in, Elix and I hastily follow with Effie behind us nattering on about schedules and other dull things. Once inside we are quickly escorted away from Haymitch and Effie, and into an elevator by two rather terrifying beings. They wear white jackets that quite resemble lab coats, with match clinically white trousers and shoes. But there is nothing uniform about their heads. One is a painfully thin woman whose skull seems to jut out of her face, her sharp, bony features are only exaggerated further by dramatic black lines along her cheekbones, jawline and down the sides of her nose. Her hair is bright pink and falls straight down either side of her head, making her appear even thinner. The other is a plump man with rosy red cheeks, he seems normal at first, but up close I see oranges jewels that are implanted symmetrically above each eyebrow. To top it off his hair is bright yellow, the same colour as my towel if I recall correctly, and is gelled back over the top of his head then it seems to explode into curls at the back, as if he's a poor tubby lion whose mane has slipped. Overall they seem even less natural than Effie. I silently pray to any unseen powers available that these will not be our stylists. The elevator goes up remarkable quickly; while the two Capitols are unfazed Elix and I barely stay standing. There's a ping and the door opens. We are guided through a long white corridor and guided into two separate rooms; the woman with me and the man with Elix. Before we enter our designated rooms we pass each other nervous smiles.

As the door clicks shut behind there is already a crowd of cawing Capitols, all different shapes and sizes, each as monstrously colourful as the next. The circle me, sizing me up, and I'm pulled to the centre of the room and placed on a table. For the next two hours I'm poked and prodded, hair is pulled and plucked as they prattle on in screeching voices that are reminiscent of Effie's accent. I hear them talk of them of their catastrophic disasters, for example, dying their hair the wrong shade of whatever. They keep looking at me for sympathetic nods and 'um's and 'aw's. Before they leave they tell me, "Now, sugarplum, you just keep yourself seated right there. A-Kay, Honey?". So I remain put, in an uneasy silence for ten minutes until someone enters the room.

A tall, wiry man slinks into the room.

"My name is Razal, I am your stylist." The first thing I notice about him is how his eyelashes are extremely long and very green. He takes off his white jacket to reveal a long sleeved lace top (that frankly, doesn't seem to have enough material to pass as a clothing item); it's the same green as his eyelashes. His hair looks relatively normal, light yellow curls, but only for a moment, then I realise his hair is changing colour, going through the rainbow. He circles me too; it must be a stylist thing.

"Now." He stops and raises a finger to his lips, in thought, "District Twelve, District Twelve, District Twelve…" I'm not too sure if he always speaks like this, but he elongates all the words to at least twice their length. "Obviously we've been focussing on coal, since that's what you do." Yes that's an excellent explanation of the relevance of coal to Twelve. "So, we want something simple, but elegant. Something enchanting, beautiful… sexy."

"Haven't you already made my costume?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I was just building up to it," He stood, "and of course, I have to do your hair and makeup first." He moves me to one side of the room where there is a mirror and a seat. He starts rummaging through bottles and jars of chemicals until he is finally satisfied with the handful he has. He places them in an order in front of me. While he works he mumbles to himself, what works and what doesn't and how my hair looks a totally different consistency on a screen. After about an hour of gels and sprays and hands in my hair he claps his hands together, bringing me back from my half-sleeping half-waking world. I am pleasantly shocked with the results. I look nothing like myself, well like an exaggerated version. My skin has become flawless, my small eyes seem to have grown within the smoky haze of my eye makeup, my round face is now structured and defined, with subtle makeup highlighting and outlining and such. My hair is quite amazing, compared with its usual scruffy appearance. I can feel the gels in it, but it looks smooth as if I awoke and my hair fell into place. The front is pulled back away from my face a little with it then falling down the sides of my face is single curls. The back and sides are too short to do much else, but be wavy. I can't fully describe how beautiful I suddenly felt. When I moved my head I saw that there was black glitter combed through, it sparkled beautifully.

"Well? Dear, don't you love it?"

"I actually do." I can tell he heard the surprise in my voice, "Not that I doubted you for a second."

"No matter, it's time for your costume." He leaves the room. I remain where I am; I'm too excited to move. Not once in my life have I been excited about clothes, I have never even cared, except when people try to dress me up 'prettily'. But now, I feel more than beautiful. I'm nervous about what my costume will look like. I try to keep in mind that the theme is coal, and they've never been particularly good, at all, in the past. But I've just got this feeling that if this guy can make me look this good in under an hour, what could he do with practically unlimited resources and weeks of preparation? I begin to feel the butterflies in my stomach. I hear the door click shut behind me and I close my eyes for a second to pull myself together. I turn around. Razal is holding out a small box about the size of a dainty teacup. He passes it to me. Nervously and rather confused I peek inside.

You have got to be kidding me.


End file.
